


The Road Less Traveled

by FoxDragon



Series: Bonfire Hearts [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Traditions, F/M, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture, M/M, Mpreg, Piercings, Post BoFA, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxDragon/pseuds/FoxDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The follow-up to Say it With Mushrooms. Thorin and Bilbo have begun courting, but before Bilbo can focus on the life he wants to have in Erebor, he needs to return to the Shire to clean up the life he left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Roads Diverged

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks as always to Isimun for beta-ing this for me, and for putting up my slow progress and randomness.
> 
> This is a WORK IN PROGRESS, chapter 2 is only about half done. Progress will be SLOW. I'm sorry, but that's just the truth.
> 
> I do have an outline for the entire story, I just need to get it written.

“Master Baggins, sir?”

Bilbo looked up from the thick stack of parchment that filled the wide table in front of him. The kitchens had become his refuge from the deep lingering chill during the day, with the need for the cooking fires to be kept burning from early in the morning to late in the evening it was easily the warmest place in the mountain. 

The dwarf standing in the doorway was a young one, clad in the livery of the Iron Hills. One of the soldiers that Dain had left at Erebor following the battle to help with the initial rebuilding efforts. He looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, and refusing to raise his gaze from the smooth stone floor. With a small sigh the hobbit pushed back from the wide table, stretching his back and rolling his neck until it popped. Rubbing his hands together he picked up a small sharp blade and begin to trim the end of his quill carefully. 

Thorin had scoffed at the elven writing materials at first, but as there was literally nothing else useable for the task in the entire mountain. Fili had destroyed the only remaining writing utensils they had found in his search to make the perfect pen for Ori, and he had been forced to admit defeat and accept that until they had more supplies they would have to make do with a certain amount of Elven goods.

He looked up at the young dwarf once more. “Kovu isn’t it?”

The dwarf drew himself up to his full height, face going nearly as red as his very short and bushy beard. “Yessir!”

He couldn’t resist the small smile that the reaction drew. Dwarves, he had learned quickly, were a very gossipy lot, worse even than Hobbits perhaps. Thorin had approached him to court only days before and already the entire mountain seemed to know, the hushed respect they had afforded him as the burglar of The Company of Thorin Oakenshield having been swiftly replaced by an even deeper and somehow more prideful near reverence for the chosen of the _King_. 

And although many in the company had at different times warned him that as Dwarves returned to the mountain from all across Middle Earth there would likely be more than a few who viewed the idea of a Dwarven king courting someone of a different race as less than desirable. For now at least it seemed that at least Dain’s soldiers were happy to view him as the likely future consort of their Lord’s beloved cousin. As strange and disconcerting as the attitude toward him felt sometimes to the Hobbit, he had quickly recognized it as rather useful.

“Now then. And to what do I owe the disruption?”

The Dwarf replied simply, not meeting his eyes but rather staring straight ahead, back ramrod straight. “He is here, sir.”

Bilbo gave a small sigh. He was excited, yes, but still could not deny the small shard of unease that seemed to lodge itself low in his gut. It felt like reality pushing itself back into the happy little dream world that he had been floating through for the last few days, and he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to face the real world quite yet.

He gave a small nod, hands busying themselves distractedly with shuffling the papers on the table. “Alright, yes, thank you. Ehm… does he wish to…?” he trailed off slowly.

He felt a bit poorly for the dwarf who shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable, not wishing to deliver an answer that he wasn’t certain the hobbit wanted to hear. “Yes sir, he is waiting in the hall.” He finally answered quietly.

Bilbo nodded and squared his shoulders as he mentally berated himself for the attitude, he should be happy right now. It was silly to be anything else. “Yes, of course. Send him in. And thank you.”

Sketching a quick bow the young soldier retreated from the room and moments later the doorway was darkened by a large, looming shadow. Gandalf was precisely as Bilbo recalled him, and despite his lingering reticence the hobbit found himself smiling as he stood to greet the wizard. “Gandalf my friend! How good it is to see you!” he took the wizards thin and surprisingly strong hand between both of his, grasping tightly in greeting.

Gandalf smiled widely at him, gaze roving over his friend’s face as he took in the small changes that had occurred in the months since they had last seen each other following the great battle, before winter had properly set in. Bilbo’s hair was longer, thick unruly curls reaching past his ear tips and falling just over his eyes; and he had thankfully been gaining weight, his cheeks losing their sallow unhealthy cast that the final days of the quest had left them with. There wasn’t yet cloth for new clothing, but what he had had been repaired masterfully with Dori and Ori’s help when they found time.

Pleased with the appearance of returning health in the Hobbit his gaze moved past him to the stacks of parchment on the table and he frowned. Bilbo followed his gaze and huffed, bustling back to the table to shift some of the papers around. “I’m just getting things organized you know, wouldn’t do to make it back to Hobbiton and not have a single thing prepared.” 

Gandalf’s frown deepened as he stepped closer, picking up on of the papers on the top of the stack. “Bilbo… is this a contract regarding the inheritance of your house?” he asked incredulously.

Bilbo snatched the paper back. “It’s just a draft, Balin gave me some help with the wording earlier, of course I will have to rewrite most of it with the Thain and some others when I get to the Shire… but the basic premise will be staying the same.”

“But why are you having such a contract written up for the topic in the first place? You are a young and vibrant Hobbit with far too many years yet ahead of you to be concerned with such a thing.” The wizard waited for his answer patiently as Bilbo straightened the edges of the stack of papers, refusing to look up for several moments. When he did his expression was set.

“Well, someone will need to look after Bag End while I am gone, and as I don’t intend to do much returning save for the occasional visit I decided that it is the best decision to look after all of these things now, to avoid confusion later you see. Besides, if there is one thing I have learned from the quest it is that when one is out and about in this great wide world beyond the borders of The Shire, the line between life and death is a very thin one. Sometimes it’s only luck that keeps us on the side we prefer.”

Bushy grey eyebrows rose incredulously at the explanation. “Bilbo my dear boy… you speak as if your return to The Shire is to be a temporary thing. Do you mean to tell me that you have become so enamored of adventuring that you are abandoning your warm hearth and comfortable armchair for good?”

He shook his head firmly. “No, no, not that. Not adventuring in and of itself. But this place, Erebor and the Dwarves. I have decided that after I put my affairs in order back in the Shire I will be returning here with the last great caravan heading East. Thorin’s sister will be traveling in that procession and they will be coming through the Shire not long after the harvest has begun, in hopes of purchasing supplies and seed crops for next spring so I will be joining them then.”

Gandalf sat slowly in a spare chair near the table, tall frame folding awkwardly into the dwarven-sized furniture. “And I suppose you are quite sure that you have thought this decision completely through, left no regrets unconsidered?”

Bilbo slid back into his own chair, settling somewhat as his friend’s reaction was not immediately negative. “Well, I don’t think it is quite possible to consider every possible thing that may or may not come to pass but… overall I think I will be happier the live out my life here, rather than in the Shire. I was always just a bit odd there, and never really quite proper, and after all of this adventuring and facing trolls and goblin kings and a dragon…” he shook his head ruefully. “I fear I may have ruined myself forever for the quiet hills of the Shire, to say nothing of my reputation among my neighbors!”

The wizard frowned again. “I know I said that you would not be the same hobbit at the end of the journey as at the beginning, but even this is far more of a change than I expected.” He contemplated his old friend’s son for a moment longer. “Bilbo, are you certain that you have not been… coerced in any way to make this decision?”

His reward was a mild glare. 

“While I do admit that my decision is not independent of the new friends that I have made during this endeavor, I would not be making this choice if I did not wholly feel it was the correct one.” He shifted the pile of papers and pulled out one from near the bottom. “Now, if you are going to be hanging about, make yourself useful and help me think of anything else I may be able to purchase in the Shire to help in the restoration efforts here that won’t be to impossible to transport all that distance.”

Gandalf’s eyebrows rose again as he was quickly pressed into helping Bilbo revise and reorganize his lists and silence returned to the kitchens for several long moments as he carefully perused the different lists that Bilbo was organizing. There were lists of foodstuffs and seed crops he hoped to procure, as well as what belongings and antiques he planned to pack for relocation to Erebor and what would be bequeathed to his many and varied relatives throughout the Shire. Bilbo could almost _feel_ the questions chasing each other around in the wizards head but he resolutely focused on his work until one of Bombur’s young helpers approached from the busier end of the kitchen chambers with a tray laden with a steaming pot of tea, two mugs, and a stack of nutty bread rolls accompanied by a thick, dark broth. It was a very simple tea with none of the cakes, cookies or biscuits that might normally have been expected, but rations were still tight and Bilbo was happy to content himself with far more basic meals so long as there was a more respectable frequency of them.

The young dwarf bowed as he backed away from the table after settling the tray, accepting Bilbo’s soft thank you with a ruddy flush of pleasure, a stammered ‘sir’ and a quick escape that left Gandalf’s eyebrows once more in his hairline. The wizard gave his small friend a thoughtful look as Bilbo busied himself with pouring the tea, clearly attempting to ignore him. “That seemed a bit… excessive…” he observed when it became clear that Bilbo was not going to offer any explanation.

The hobbit sighed and set the teapot back on the tray. “Alright, alright.” He squared his shoulders and met Gandalf’s eyes with an expression that seemed almost daring. “Thorin and I are courting. It’s not been long but we are rather serious about it, and many of those in the mountain are already acting as if I am to be crowned consort under the mountain the very same night he shall accept the king’s crown. That’s silly of course as we shall be hugely lucky to even arrive back here before the next Durin’s day and really a proper courtship should never be rushed but that is how it is. And yes, that is a large part of why I am staying and no I will not reconsider.” Once he started talking it quickly came out in a rush that left Gandalf quite speechless for a moment. 

Humming to himself in thought the Wizard pulled out his pipe and began to studiously clean it, scraping the bowl noisily as Bilbo watched him, shoulders tense once more as he awaited the other’s reaction (judgment?) that was not immediately forthcoming. 

Finally he spoke. “Bilbo… You know that such a thing would never be recognized or accepted in the Shire…”

He nodded with a small sigh, wrapping his hands around the generously sized ceramic mug, feeling the heat of the hot tea seeping through the stone and into his chilled fingers. “Yes, I know. Which is precisely one of the reasons I will be staying.” He gave Gandalf a solemn look, silently imploring him to _understand_ “In the Shire I will always be simply a bachelor. An oddity, with… predilections that were understood but never spoken of, and certainly never considered acceptable. I may have entertained a companion or two for a while, but never long, and certainly never in public!” Sipping at his tea, he found himself pouring out his thoughts and feelings as they came to him, glad to have an audience that at least understood how Hobbits viewed relationships between those of the same sex. It was one thing for Thorin and the rest of the dwarves to be told that it was something he had always been raised to know was unacceptable, it was quite another to properly _know_ how he had been quietly shamed and shunned in the Shire for not taking a wife.

So as Gandalf listened quietly, nodding and humming in the right places he continued on. “I mean, already in just a few days I have experience things I never would have dreamed of before this! I have been courted, openly and without shame by someone I actually _desire_ , by someone I honestly find _attractive_. I have been given gifts without fear, affection without censure, Fili and Kili tease me and call me ‘little uncle’!” at that his eyes misted a bit, just that small bit of acceptance by Thorin’s family, so easily given, affected him far more deeply than he could ever explain to the brothers. “He takes my hand in public with no hesitation and speaks to me with endearments and no concern for who may hear and...” His voice broke slightly and Gandalf reached across the space between them to lay a comforting hand in his trembling shoulder.

“I believe I understand my dear friend.” He said softly after a while when it became clear that words had escaped the Hobbit. “My only concern, and mind you this is only out of my love for you, I have no desire to cast aspersions over your decision, but think only… Is it the openness of this affection that has you so deeply enamored already? Or is it that it comes from Thorin Oakenshield? Because he will soon be crowned King and with that will come certain expectations of whomever shall stand beside him, and more than that, I worry how much of this comes from simply having the freedom to court openly, to, as you say, be so accepted with such ease?”

Bilbo took a few deep breaths, raising his hand to clutch at Gandalf’s fingers where they rested warm on his shoulder. Finally he shook his head. “No, no if it were any other I would not feel the same. Of that I am certain.” As he regained his composure a small blush warmed his features. “To be truthful I felt a desire for his attentions long before I knew such a thing was acceptable among Dwarves. And even then, I had resigned myself to desiring him from afar during my stay here, and returning to the Shire with only the memories of our time spent in friendship to accompany me.” He gave a small huffing laugh. “I reconsidered that plan quite quickly however when he approached me, I assure you.”

He gave Gandalf’s hand another squeeze before releasing it with an only slightly tremulous smile. “And you are right about the expectations they will have of me should I become his official consort. To be truthful I’ve been trying very hard not to think of it! I don’t think I will ever properly understand what that will mean until I am faced with living it, but if that is the price of standing at his side without fear, of sharing our lives without hiding… then I will pay it, however high that cost may be. Gladly shall I pay it.”

Gandalf laughed softly at the strength of Bilbo’s final declaration and picked up his mug with a grin. “Well then if that is how it is, I wish all the best for you my dear friend, I only hope that Thorin Oakenshield realizes what he is getting himself into!”

Bilbo met his chuckle with a small smile of his own and softly knocked their mugs together. 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Now that Gandalf had arrived in the mountain, it would be mere days before they would depart for the Shire, and a strange sense of urgency settled around Bilbo’s shoulders. Every morning that he woke with Thorin’s arm heavy around his waist and the snores of their den mates echoing in the small, cozy space he thought only of how much he would soon be missing this, how the road home would be much emptier than the road to Erebor had been, with barely half their company’s original number.

After much consideration it had been decided that Kili and Balin would be accompanying the Hobbit and wizard westward, along with Gloin whose wife and son would be joining that final caravan, and a carefully chosen pair of guards from Dain’s soldiers. 

When he heard that the dwarves wanted to throw a feast the night of his departure however, he put his (large) foot firmly down. With food still scarce and carefully rationed, he absolutely refused to accept any waste or misuse of food in his name, so instead the entire company took their normally allotted evening meal together in one of the small gathering halls that had been recently cleared out. 

That evening was full of song and merriment and cheer. There may not have been an abundance of food, but there were instruments to play and all of the company together with Dain’s men soldiers gathered as well to play and sing carry on as if it were the grandest of feasts, and Bilbo sat close to Thorin’s side in the center of the festivities. He laughed at Kili and Fili’s excessive antics, Bofur’s bawdy songs, and Balin’s clever jokes. All congratulated Nori and Dwalin when the tall warrior took the opportunity to announce, officially, that Nori was expecting, and as the evening began to wane Bilbo knew that as much as he had missed his cozy smial along the road to Erebor, he could never miss it as much as he would miss these loud and raucous dwarves.

As the celebration was drawing to a close with his many friends drifting away after wishing him safe travels and the best of luck in his business at the Shire, as well as a quick and safe return _home_ , Thorin gently drew him aside. Tipping his head up curiously, he received a small light kiss from his intended with a slow grin. “Alright.” He asked, amusement in his voice as the noise of the others in the hall drifted away. “What’s this about then?”

Thorin smiled against his face softly. “Do I need a reason?”

The return earned him a measuring look “Need? No. But I’m willing to bet that you have one anyways.”

The dwarf chuckled deep in his belly, a rich rumbling sound that curled Bilbo’s toes pleasantly. “Ah, you have me found out my darling. I have a small surprise for you, and I promise not a single dwarf in this mountain shall go without any necessity for even a moment as a result.”

This earned him a sideways, uncertain look, but Bilbo allowed himself to be steered from the hall nonetheless, glancing around curiously as he was led toward one of the back rooms near the kitchens. Thorin paused at one of the side doors, hesitating as he glanced down at the Hobbit. “You may enjoy this alone if you so choose, or share. It shall be entirely your decision.”

Now Bilbo was very curious, if a bit uncertain, peering around Thorin’s wide shoulders as he opened the door. A rolling wave of moist air slid out past the door and he shot Thorin a confused look as he stepped past him into the room. Inside a fire burned in a deep fireplace, a large copper tub nearby half full of steaming water with several more large pots steaming near the fire. A pile of thick towels rested on a small stool near the tub, along with small glass vials of soap and bathing oil.

He looked over the piled offering slowly, eyes wide in surprise as he turned to look at Thorin. “This… this is…?”

Thorin grinned down at him softly. “I thought you may enjoy a hot, relaxing bath before you leave to spend weeks on the road. So you remember what being warm and clean feels like.”

He grinned slowly, stepping into Thorin’s space and tipping his head up to look at him. “So I remember Erebor as being warm and clean you mean.” There was a teasing note in his voice, but it was light and happy and drew Thorin down to softly cover that smiling mouth with his own.

He hummed against Bilbo’s bare lips. “Mmm… I guess you have me found out givashel, my dastardly plot, foiled by my clever little burglar.”

Bilbo stayed against him a moment longer, savoring the slow sweet kisses before pulling away to inspect the oils and soaps offered. Some bore men’s marks, clearly from Dale, but most bore the loopy scrawling script of the elves.

He lifted one such bottle, inspecting the label that proclaimed it as infused with lavender, and gave his dwarf another slow, thankful smile, but did not comment on his clear cooperation with Thranduil and his people. Thorin was still sensitive about it, he knew. It was a necessary alliance for their survival, but that didn’t mean Thorin had to like it. At any rate, the less that was said on the topic, the better.

“So then…” he cocked his head curiously. “You said this is a gift I could share?”

Thorin flushed slightly and rubbed self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Well eh... that is…” he steadied himself with a deep breath, fully aware of the amusement shining in the Hobbit’s eyes as he floundered. “It is not considered unseemly among dwarves to share a bath… although this is _far_ from what would have been normal before the worm came. It was once that we had very extensive bathing chambers to wash and soak in, all heated by the great forges.”

Bilbo raised a brow. “Oh not unseemly is it? So is it like the den thing where there are specific… rules?”

The flush that had been receding from the Dwarf’s cheeks returned stronger than before, there was no question in either of their minds _exactly_ what Bilbo was asking. “Ah well… in the public baths yes of course one does not… that is to say…” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “However in a private bath it perfectly acceptable to... or rather, it is…” Bilbo just smiled angelically up at him, clearly enjoying his fumbled attempts at answering the question.

He took a deep breath and raised his hands, resting them on Bilbo’s shoulders. “Yes, it is acceptable to partake of such things in a private bath. However.” Here he paused briefly for emphasis. “Our courtship is only begun and it would not be proper, nor would I wish to engage in such activities on the eve of your leaving. I fear if I, If we, were to do so, I would not be able to allow you from my side come the morning. Yet however it may try my restraint, I would wish to share this with you, tonight. To hold you close and so forge a memory to keep me company in your absence until you are returned.”

A deep flush rose in Bilbo’s cheeks at the seriousness of Thorin’s tone and statement, happy thrills of excitement racing down his spine and curling his toes as one hand idly drifted up to cover the bottom of his mouth. “Oh… Thorin…That. That’s…” He raised himself up on his toes to softly kiss the Dwarf “I agree entirely, and though it may be quite test of both my control and yours, I would have you share this with me. A pleasing memory to hold while I travel so far away.”

Thorin returned the kiss softly before stepping back towards a small bench so he could sit to remove his heavy boots. He glanced at the tub as he did. “I feel I must still apologize, we have not what is needed for a proper wash and soak, but it is at least better than the alternative.” His boots thunked heavily on the floor, one following soon after the other, both chased by worn and often-darned socks, leaving his toes small, bare and pink in the dim light of the flickering candles and fire.

For a moment Bilbo watched as if entranced, pulling himself away from the sight of those small, delicate feet and bare toes almost forcefully. He fully understood in that moment why the various members of the company had stared at him so during the early days of their journey, Dwarven feet were quite strange compared to Hobbit feet! So small and soft and almost dainty… He wondered how Thorin’s small nearly hairless ankle would look with a wedding chain settled around it… and quickly pressed the thought away. Dwarves wore boots, an ankle chain would be uncomfortable and hidden, which would defeat the purpose. Although he could probably find something suitable while he was in the Shire, certainly no one here would care if he chose to wear one once he was properly bonded to Thorin.

Realizing he had been simply standing in the center of the room as Thorin unlaced his boots, he moved over to the bench, shedding the heavy fur lined jacket he had been wearing; The room was warm enough from the large fire that it was quickly growing uncomfortable. After the coat was properly set aside he started on the buttons of his shirt. “So what would be needed for a proper wash and soak?” he asked idly as he looked at the steaming water in the tub, oh that looked truly wondrous! He was fairly certain he had not had anything resembling a proper wash since Rivendell, not in warm water at any rate. 

Finished with his boots, Thorin began to shed the upper layers of his clothing. “Well, in the old days, the water for the baths was heated from the great forges, and was always plentiful and hot. There would be a washing space where you could scrub yourself clean and rinse away the soap, before soaking in a tub. In the public bathing houses there are many tubs and many of them are quite large. Some are warmer than others, and others cooler. Some are very deep, and some are very shallow, and some have special minerals for the skin and hair dissolved in them, and you could sit and soak in any of the baths for as long as you desired, hours if you so wished.” He recalled with fondness as he thought of how Erebor had been in his youth, and would one day be again. 

“Once we have the fuel to light the great forges, the heat will warm the entire city. Water is pumped from where the river travels through the mountain, up to the very top levels were it is stored in a great reservoir. From there pipes carry it down to into the city as cold water, or to great channels that run through the forges, near the fires where the water gets quite hot, and then out into the city. The hot water doesn’t just heat the baths, it runs through the stones, in places under the walkways, and in others through the very walls. It takes a very long time for the heat to properly seep out into the city, but once it has, so long as the system keeps water flowing, all of Erebor is warmed by it. Balin once told me that it even stayed warm enough for some of the lower fields to grow crops through winter.” 

Bilbo stared at the still water in the copper tub, unbuttoning his top as he listened, trying to imagine how it had been before the dragon had come. The city alive with hundreds of dwarves, living their lives, raising their families and practicing their trades. Learning that some dwarves _did_ farm had been a surprise, but he had seen the great ‘fields’ that were carved into the mountainside far up the southern slopes. 

Some were set so far into the mountain that aqueducts had been used to water them, and mirrors long since shattered had shone light into smooth round crystals that now lay broken. Once, they had diffused beams of sunlight through high-ceilinged rooms where the dwarves of Erebor had grown potatoes, leeks, and grains, or grazed livestock such as pigs and goats to supplement what was grown outside the mountain. He had not been able to see much of the space, as the light was thin and the wind had carried deep drifts of snow into the most easily accessible of the spaces, but what he had seen had been a ghost orchard of long dead apple trees so dry and brittle they looked as if touched they may shatter.

Trees that had soon after become the target of the restoration crews as they worked to gather whatever burnable fuels they could.

“It sounds amazing.” His voice was soft as Bilbo paused in removing his shirt. “And everyone bathes together?” it was an odd thing to consider, even odder than grown adults that were not romantic partners, sharing a bed. That at least did make some sense in terms of sharing heat, especially with what he had been told about newborn dwarflings being victim to even the slightest of chills without at least one adult near to share body heat at all times.

Thorin stood to unlace his trousers, now down to just his thin undershirt. “For the most part, yes.” He nodded. “There was a set of bathing chambers in the palace for the use of nobles and the royal family, but even my siblings and I at times used the larger public baths with our mother or father. Mother especially was fond of them.”

Bilbo glanced up at him, then away as he realized how near to naked the dwarf was. He shed his shirt and set to work on his own trousers, focusing his mind away from the thought that they would soon be sharing bathwater. Normal it may have been for dwarves, but he wasn’t exactly a dwarf now was he?

“You’ve never really spoken of her before. At least, not to me.”

For a moment the dim room knew only the soft rustle of cloth against skin.

“There really isn’t much to tell. She died when _he_ came.”

Bilbo nodded slowly. “What was she like?” He paused barely a breath “I mean, my mother was quite kind, and adventurous, she always had a story to tell and loved to go walking in the mornings.” He trailed off a bit “Was she kind, your mother?” then “I’m sorry, you don’t have to speak of it if you don’t wish to.”

Thorin barked a small laugh as he stepped out of his trousers and folded them on the bench. “It’s alright, it’s been a long time. But to answer your question, I don’t think ‘kind’ is a word many would have ever attributed to my mother. She was a great beauty, and a talented jeweler with an eye for cutting stone that many envied, and my father loved her as though she had pressed the very mountains up from the land with her own hands, but no. She was not a kind or gentle dam, few dwarrowdam are really.” He recalled an old saying from his youth. It didn’t quite translate properly into westron but he supposed it didn’t matter terribly. “Our dams are hard and pure like diamond, and just as likely to cut if you don’t handle them right. Our seeding males are like iron, hard and sturdy in the face of all that may come. Made stronger by the great fires, and steady when left to cool.” He was smiling softly to himself as he recalled the adage. “Our bearing males like the forge fires, burning hottest when the fire seems lowest, shaping the greatest of treasures, and the humblest of tools with the same care.” He glanced up to find the hobbit watching him, head cocked to one side, trousers dangling loosely from one hand.

He stepped closer, slipping his hands up onto Bilbo’s thin hips, cupping the still too noticeable hipbones in his palms, the trousers dropping from the Hobbit’s lax fingers as they were forgotten. He voice dropped a bit, growing huskier as he finished “And our children are like the gold veins of the mountain, shining bright in even the darkest shadows, untouched by tarnish. Smooth and malleable, waiting to be shaped to show all the world how glorious they may be.”

Bilbo swallowed, mouth dry and raised his hands to rest on the Dwarf’s shoulders, near his collarbones. “You’re really sure about that then, having children?”

“Are you not?”

He thought for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t want to have children, it’s just that… I never thought that I would and even now it’s…. I guess it’s not yet sunk it that it’s really an option. That you…” he trailed off, letting his eyes trail down the front of him. It was strange to consider, that someone who was, at least by Hobbit standards perhaps, so definitively _male_ could bear offspring. Although Thorin was not slim, and yes his chest was perhaps a bit more… defined that Bilbo would have expected, his paps slightly swollen compared to a male hobbit, the nipples set low and wide and-

His brain stuttered to a stop as he noticed something he hadn’t before and he stared.

With one hand he tentatively touched Thorin’s chest just to the side of his left nipple, pushing thick dark hair aside to get a better view. Yes, yes that was what he thought it was. That was…. 

Thorin ducked his head, raising a brow at Bilbo’s expression and glancing at his own chest, wondering what had distracted him. “Is there something wrong?”

“You have… metal…. In your chest?”

He chuckled, carefully guiding the hobbits small fingers over to brush against the heavy gold hoop that he had worn proudly for decades. Bilbo’s fingers curled slightly at the first contact, growing bolder after a moment to slowly trace the thick band of metal, tugging lightly as he inspected where it passed through Thorin’s flesh. Thorin for his part just watched in mild amusement as the other curiously explored the ornament. 

“It’s a token, most adult dwarves wear one. Piercings are rather common in various places for our people. Do yours not pierce themselves at all?”

Bilbo shook his head, glancing up with a bit of embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m being rude. But no, we don’t. Not anywhere.”

He was given a curious look and Thorin stepped into the tub, holding a hand out in invitation. “Not anywhere at all? Even the ears?”

He had started to reach out for Thorin’s hand but at that his hands flew up to his ears, eyes wide in shock. “Our ears?!” he nearly screeched in shock. “Why would anyone want to put holes in their ears!?”

“It’s a fairly normal place for dwarves to piece, and I’ve heard among men it is quite common.”

“Well Hobbits are Not _Men_!”

“Clearly. Now are you going to join me in this bath sometime this age or not?”

Bilbo gave him an uncertain look as he reached slowly forward again. “Have you got holes then in other places?”

Thorin made a small non-committal noise as he grasped Bilbo’s hand, tugging impatiently but the hobbit resisted at the noise, looking outright suspicious. “Where are they?” he asked flatly.

Thorin gave him a Significant Look but the hobbit did not back down. 

“Thorin, what other bits of your body have got metal in them?” He asked in a tone that brooked no nonsense.

“My bits.”

“That’s what I was asking, _What bits?”_

“My _bits_ ” 

“I just said that, Thorin I swear…” 

“Bilbo!” He barked sharply then gave the startled hobbit another Significant Look. “The bits of me that also have metal bits in them, are my _bits_ “ 

Bilbo stared at him for a moment before his gazed drifted down. With a sigh Thorin dropped his hand and reached down to display himself, knowing full well that while he was soft as he was, it just made the jewelry look … bigger. Bilbo made a small uncertain noise as he eyed the barbell nested below his glens, and the small hoops that lined the seam of his stones. 

For a long moment silence stretched between the two. 

“…….Why?” 

He shrugged. “It’s a dwarven custom. Most have some sort of decoration around there once they reach adulthood, but only then. Those who have not yet reached their majority are not allowed to be pierced.“ 

Bilbo nodded slowly “I am never going to ever have anything like that. Just so we’re clear.” 

With a mightily put upon sigh he reached over, hooked his hands under Bilbo’s arms, and lifted the hobbit off his feet. Ignoring the startled cry he lifted him over the low edge of the tub and deposited him in the warm, ankle deep water. “Bilbo. I understand that you are not a dwarf and I would neither expect nor ask for you to do such a thing. Now, can we please enjoy this bath tonight? Bombur was quite helpful in arranging this for us and I would prefer his hard work not go to waste for the simple sake of distraction.” 

The dwarves’ hands were slapped rudely away as soon as Bilbo had feet firmly in the tub. “Thorin I swear by the maker if you _ever_ think you can just toss me around as you see fit ever again I…. I don’t care if you are the king, I’ll shave you bald! Or go back to the Shire and stay there for good!” 

“Alright, alright! I shall never do so again, I swear it. _NOW_ may we bathe?” 

He huffed again, hesitating for a moment longer before deciding it wasn’t worth the bother. “Oh all right. You’re right, this is a wonderful treat and it’s going rather to waste at this rate.” He used the side of the tub to brace as Thorin moved to sit in the shallow water. 

With a bit of maneuvering and shifting, and thankfully only one nearly disastrous slip, they both managed to settle together in the tub with Bilbo nearly in Thorin’s lap due to the confined space. A flannel and rustic bar of tallow soap were retrieved from the low table near the tub and Bilbo hummed an appreciation as he back was thoroughly scrubbed. 

“As lovely as this is, I must admit I do look forward to the day when those bathing chambers you spoke of are useable again.” 

Thorin ran the thick cloth over pale shoulders and up to scrub at the mess of curls on his head. “I agree. And with any luck by the time you return with the caravans next autumn at least one of the forges will be working, that should heat some of the city and at least one public bath. It’s one of the priorities at least. There should be enough refugees coming that it will be needed to have some reasonable and reliable method for folk to bathe.” 

Leaning his head back against the scrubbing, eyes tightly closed to avoid the soap Bilbo hmmed again. “Tell you what, get at least one of those baths running again and I may even decide to stick around for good.” 

“Ah, so it’s not really me that you’re interested in at all, I see how it is. 

“Of course. I am only courting you for the future comforts of your kingdom, what kind of a hobbit do you think I am?” 

Thorin’s deep chuckle sent small waves rippling through the water as he used a small bowl to scoop water over Bilbo’s head and rinse the soap away from his hair, plastering the curls tightly to his skin. “I shall be sure to place all priority on reclaiming the grandest bathing chambers in your name.” 

Once he was rinsed Bilbo shifted to lay chest-to-chest with Thorin, twisting his head awkwardly to look up at him. “Oh I don’t need the _grandest_ chambers, just a working hot bath will due. And your eternal devotion of course.” He fluttered his eyelashes playfully, startling another full bellied laugh from the dwarf who ducked his chin down to steal a small kiss. 

“That, givashel, I believe I can manage.” 


	2. In A Wood And I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Co. travel to The Shire, meanwhile life in Erebor spins on without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFG
> 
> I AM SO SORRY!!!!!!!
> 
> Srsly, I wanted to have this up like, a month ago, maybe TWO months ago but this chapter did NOT cooperate with me AT ALL.
> 
> And my work schedule changed so I'm no longer able to write at work during breaks, so progress on Ch 3 may also be ... slowed.
> 
> Also, tbh, I don't really like this chapter. I just don't.

In A Wood And I

The morning of their departure dawned cold, grey and damp. Moisture hung heavy in the air in the form of a persistent drizzle that refused to be proper rain, but was far too thick and heavy to be just a mist. 

That it was also icy cold, clinging to any inch of exposed skin and chilling noses, throats and lungs with every breath simply added insult to the injury of leaving.

Bilbo huddled further down into the edges of his oilskin as they left the ruins of Dale behind. Thorin had called their bath the night before a good warm memory to bring him home to Erebor, and already it was working! He had wanted to turn back almost as soon as they had left the mountain, turn back and just crawl into that warm nest of their den between the heavy musky heat of Thorin and his nephews and leave the travel for later, perhaps even never.

At first he had thought the lack of any ponies for their journey was going to be a boon, saving him from his allergies and not to mention he still had terrible memories of finding horsehair in places it simply did NOT belong, but even before they had reached the edges of Dale he found himself wishing for something warm and fluffy to help him fight away the chill. 

For their part the dwarves in the company were in Bilbo’s opinion in almost disgustingly high spirits. Kili especially was nearly bouncing with every step, eager to reach the edge of Mirkwood forest where Tauriel would be meeting them to accompany the group for much of the journey west until they reached Rivendell, and Balin was forced to call him back to the main group on numerous occasions when he strayed ahead. From what Bilbo understood she was going to be staying with Lord Elrond until rejoining them in the fall during their return trip, although he was unclear on exactly why she was visiting the Last Homely House. 

Kili’s clear excitement at seeing the elf maiden once more caused more than a few low grumblings from the rest of their party, mostly from the corner of Gloin who had made it clear early on that he for one did not approve of the prince’s interest. Even so however, it took only the slightest mention of his wife and son Gimli, waiting on their arrival in The Blue Mountains, to bring the surly dwarf to a cheerful demeanor; and by the time the first night of the journey closed around them, Bilbo had learned to keep mention of family to a minimum, lest they all be inundated with Gloin’s excited tales.

The first night on the road they camped on the edge of the long lake, and it was an especially cold one with a chilling wind blowing across the water to bite at noses and ears. Bilbo volunteered to help with the cooking of their dinner as soon as they settled for camp, in part because it was a task he had become rather proficient at during their initial journey, but also largely because it gave him a very good reason to huddle close to the fire. 

Thorin had made certain he had been equipped for the journey as generously as could be managed, although he had refused to accept the dwarf’s attempts at gifting him his own armored warg skin coat, and the thick pelt that served as his outer layer held well against the wind. Still, he found himself shivering as the wind moaned through bare trees until a heavy, compact body settled close to his side.

He looked up in slight shock to find it was Kili who had taken the space beside him, the young dwarf grinning broadly. He gave him a slightly wan smile in return and received a nudge in the ribs for his effort, thankfully a gentle one. Sharing a den had at least taught his usual sleeping companions quite a bit about the relative fragility of hobbit skin compared to dwarven elbows or knees.

“Aw c’mon Uncle Boggins, we’ve only been gone a few hours, you can’t be pining already!” His young companion teased and he sniffed in response.

“I am certainly not pining!”

“Oh you are a bit laddie.”

He gave Balin a sharp look across the fire, not failing to notice when one of Dain’s guards, Kalb he believed her name was, did her best to hide a snicker in her elbow. (He was at least fairly certain the dwarf was a ‘her’, he still found organizing the idea of three distinct sexes in his mind rather confusing, and it was not helped by the fact that the majority of dwarves seemed to use the male pronouns when speaking common, regardless of the individual’s sex. Hearing Fili and Kili refer to their mother as ‘he’ as often as ‘she’ continued to give him pause.)

Gandalf, sitting just at the edge of the fire’s light raised a brow as he puffed at his pipe, but otherwise said nothing, preferring as he often did to simply watch and listen. 

Balin just gave him a patient, knowing look.

He sighed. “I am not pining.” He insisted, distracting himself as best he could with the soup he was preparing for them all. “I was simply thinking of the road ahead of us, and how it seems almost silly to be going back this way when we’ve only just come this far not two seasons ago.” He watched the soup burble slowly.

Kili leaned into his side, a heavy line of musky warm that reminded him strongly of the lad’s uncle and he felt a deep pang in his stomach. He understood of course, why Thorin could not have been part of their little troupe, but he missed him terribly all the same. “Of course you’re not pining.” Kili soothed, wrapping a heavy arm around his shoulders “Obviously you’re just sighing over the thought of all the lovely campfire dinners we will all be sharing over the next few weeks.”

Hobbit elbows were not nearly as heavy as dwarven elbows, but they were still surprisingly sharp and Kili yelped in protest as Bilbo dug his neatly into the lad’s ribs. 

Balin moved closer, shifting around the fire to sit at Bilbo’s other side. “It’s alright laddie, there’s no reason to try to hide it. Thorin and you have only just begun to court, and now to be leaving him so far behind must be a trial.”

With another sigh he gave the soup another halfhearted stir, feeling their combined warmth seeping through the layers of his coat. “It’s just hard to be leaving so soon after we got started. That’s part of it at least.” He admitted.

“So if that’s part of it, what’s the rest?” Kili pressed gently.

There was a bit of a shuffle on the other side of the fire as Gloin returned along with the two soldiers traveling with them, all carrying full armloads of wood that they arranged in a neat stack far enough from the fire to not be a danger, but close enough to be convenient. Bilbo watched their efforts quietly.

As they settled around the fire he leaned against Kili’s side, the young dwarf seemed surprised, but wrapped a comforting arm around him. 

“It’s not accepted in the Shire, the sort of relationship we have, or will have.” He said softly after a moment. “Even if he can carry young he is still a _him_ , and in their eyes it would be shameful, us courting.”

Balin nodded slowly, He remembered the short conversation that had occurred on the topic during their journey, and Thorin had discussed the subject with him as well since then. Kili was less tactful.

“Uncle is a King! Erebor was the greatest kingdom in the east and will be again, why should it matter at all if they do or don’t approve? You shall be consort of a kingdom the likes of which they can never imagine!” He protested, frowning.

Reaching for the bowls, Bilbo started to fill them with stew and hand out the steaming dinner to the dwarves around him. “That sort of thing doesn’t matter to them Kili. Hobbits don’t care much for gold or military power, you should know that by now. All they will see is that I have gone off _adventuring_ and then settled myself quite scandalously with another male, to go live in some mountain farther away from the Shire than any hobbit in memory has ever been.”

“Forgive me for overhearing lad, but I have to wonder.”

Bilbo looked up at Gloin as he accepted his bowl of stew, he noticed that Dain’s soldiers traveling with them were also listening, while doing their best to look as if they weren’t.

“It’s just, it seems to me that what your previous neighbors may think of your choices, should really only matter to you if you feel they may be right, or that what they think should be a greater concern for you than what it is that makes you happy.”

Bilbo blinked owlishly at the fierce red-haired dwarf. For his part Gloin just harrumphed and took a hefty bite of his stew, muttering around the thick gravy and beef “least, that’s just what _I_ think anyways.”

To the warrior’s astonishment, Bilbo set aside the rest of the bowls and the ladle and stood, carefully picking his way over around the fire and gave him a fierce hug. “Thank you my friend. You are absolutely correct.”

Gloin blushed a deep red that nearly matched his beard as Bilbo returned to his place between Balin and Kili, both looking far more cheerful than they had moments before. He returned to dishing up the rest of their meal for the night, and the mood around the fire was far lighter, with all retiring to their bedrolls early so as to get a good start in the morning with the first light of dawn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bilbo and his traveling companions had scarcely been gone from Erebor a fortnight when the first small caravan of mostly workers and supplies arrived just as Dain had promised before winter had driven him back to his own home. They filtered through the ruined and patched gates in a thin line, driving what livestock they had brought with them in small herds.

Many of the dwarves who came in the caravan were those whose homes had been in Erebor before the dragon came, and now the returned eagerly, carrying tools and supplies on their back, memories in their hearts, and already discussing future plans amongst themselves as necks craned and eyes wetted at seeing their long lost home under dwarven rule once more.

Thorin met them not at the throne room, but in the open chamber where the people of Dale had made their winter settlement, and brought forward with him Bard, whom those people had elected as their leader. 

He made no grand speeches.

He wore a simple tunic and only the barest crown of white gold and sapphires.

He greeted them as his people, welcomed them home, and bid them all to work hard to restore ALL of the homes of the Lonely Mountain, those of the dwarves deep within the mountain’s depths, and those of the Men of Dale at the edge of her foothills.

And as they were settled and the livestock sorted into pens that had been prepared for their arrival, he returned to his own labors, coordinating the division of work parties to be sure that as much progress as could be made, was. Soon dwarves and men would be sent northward and east to fell trees that could be floated down the river to serve as fuel for the forges, and timber for building and repair work.

The fishing ladders where the great river rolled under and through the mountain had served an invaluable source of protein during the winter, but were even so in dire need of repair if they had any hope of landing more than a few fish at any time. Fortunately Smaug clearly had little taste for fish, as those who were old enough to remember claimed the river caverns had never been so full of such fat fish.

Bard and his folk had taken a special interest in revitalizing the great planting beds within the fortress, and in the valley along the river running between the great gates and the walls of Dale. To that end all waste from the livestock on hand, and the new animals that had been brought by the caravan, was being dutifully collected and spread on those fields deemed most easily reclaimed by the men who had the most farming experience, to refresh the soil in the hopes that at least some planting would soon be possible.

The great forges themselves needed little repair if any, and aside from stocking what fuel they could, little attention was spared this part of the mountain. Instead those who were not busy with other work were tasked with the tedious and arduous responsibility of tracing out endless miles of pipe, some buried in walls and floors, others suspended from ceilings or along narrow hallways constructed specifically for the purpose. 

The pipes carried the water that brought life and heat to all corners of the kingdom, and the long decades of stagnant wet had deeply damaged much of the system. Complete repair would take years, so first the system had to be mapped, the most critical areas determined. Much to his dismay, Fili found himself placed in charge of this crew. 

‘An important lesson in leadership and responsibility’ his uncle told him with a clap to the shoulder.

‘A good distraction from his growing affections for Ori’ grumbled Dori who was himself responsible for the distribution and coordination for those supplies that were not food (which was in turn the responsibility of Bombur and his small team of dedicated cooks).

Life in the mountain was not yet easy, far from it, but progress was being made towards recovery for all who called it home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They reached the edge of Mirkwood early in the afternoon on the third day to find a small group of elves already waiting for them, headed by Tauriel and the blond elf that Bilbo recognized briefly from the battle as Thranduil’s own son.  
Greetings and introductions were exchanged and Bilbo learned the blond elf was named Legolas, and did his best to ignore the raised eyebrows he received when Balin introduced him as ‘Bilbo Baggins, intended of the King Under the Mountain’. Really, they had been courting for only a matter of days! Did that really qualify as Thorin’s ‘intended’? He hadn’t even officially proposed yet (and why should he have? It was far too early for that, although really even now Bilbo could not see himself following any path that did not result in his eventual marriage to the dwarf king).

The news that the elves were there to escort them through the Mirkwood was met with an overall sense of relief from those dwarves that had ventured through the forest already. The memories of their trials under those accursed boughs had not yet left any of them with peace and they were perfectly willing to overlook their general distrust of elves if it meant swift and safe passage to the far side of Mirkwood. 

Once the basic introductions and pleasantries were finished the group set off together into the shadows of the forest, the dwarves keeping close together in the center of the path with the elves moving through the shadows of the trees around them. 

They traveled mostly in silence, the forest looming around them dark and oppressive. Looking up meant nightmare memories of glowing spider eyes, so Bilbo kept his eyes down doing his best to focus on where he was putting his feet. Behind him he could at times dimly hear Kili quietly talking to Tauriel, while in front of him Gloin glared in the general direction of where Legolas was occasionally visible through the trees. Beside him Balin stayed comfortingly close to his side while the soldiers accompanying them watched the trees and their elven accompaniment with equal measure of suspicion and wariness.

The days in Mirkwood were only slightly less dark than the nights, and seemed almost less welcoming then Bilbo remembered. The only comfort being that with their elven escort camping around the perimeter of their own tight camp, the other inhabitants of the forest seemed willing enough to leave them to pass in relative peace.

With the elven host to guide them and ease their passage they made much better time than any had been expecting, crossing the river at an elegant elven made bridge after only a few days of travel. It was scarcely a week and a half past that, that it was announced one evening they would pass the edge of the Mirkwood by the next sunset. The news cheered them all greatly, as the thought of finally leaving the woods behind in favor of Beorns fertile land was a welcome one to all of the dwarves and Bilbo.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At the edge of the Mirkwood they paused to simply enjoy the feeling of clear sunshine on their faces and fresh wind stirring the air. Even the mountain dwelling dwarves, after the ponderous gloom of the forest, found joy in the open fields that greeted them. Their elven escorts parted at the edge of the wood, most drifting back into the shadows of the forest to return to their kingdom. Surprisingly Tauriel was not alone when she joined them in the bright light and new grass. Rather, the blond prince, Legolas, joined her as well.

Several of the dwarves gave him curious looks, and it was Balin who spoke to ask the question they all wondered. “Ah lad, I was under the impression that it was just miss Tauriel that would be traveling with us to Rivendell?” 

The blond elf barely glanced in his direction, and Bilbo frowned. “Then you were mistaken, I will be traveling to Lord Elrond’s house as well.” And he moved away from the group then, out into the field, making it clear that there would be no further discussion of the topic.

Tauriel gave the group of them a small shrug as Kili moved up beside her. “Did you know he was coming with us?” he asked bluntly and she shook her head. 

“I suspected he may decide to do so. He and his father have been…” she hesitated, clearly debating how much should be said. “They have been in disagreement lately about many things. I suspect he simply feels a need to have some time away.”

Bilbo nodded in understanding. “When I was younger my father and I disagreed at times, I would go out into the woods near Bagshot row for hours just to be away from home and settle my own thoughts until I felt I could return home without starting another row.” He chuckled slightly. “The passions of youth and all that I suppose. I suspect for elves it may take more than an afternoon to quiet ones discontent.”

She gave him a measuring look, then smiled just a bit as he was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Yes, I suspect it may.”

Gloin huffed and shouldered his pack once more. “Well whatever he wishes to do, he’s welcome to it, but I for one am ready to be on our way once more, Master hobbit?”

Bilbo blinked at him once in confusion then nodded swiftly, gathering up his own pack. Yes, Yes of course. We should be on our way. As we haven’t ponies this time, with any luck we should reach Beorn’s home by the end of tomorrow. I do hope he won’t mind us popping in on him again like this…”

Kili clapped him on the back, sending him forward with a sudden lurch. “Oh I don’t think that great man will mind to see his ‘little bunny’ at all mister Boggins!”

Bilbo’s protests at both nicknames were ignored as the young dwarf proceeded to then regale Tauriel (and their Iron Hills escort) with the story of how they had met the enormous skin changer, and how he had taken to Bilbo.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Beorn’s little cottage had not changed much, and Bilbo breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the thatched roof came into view. The tall hedges and wide fields were less green than during their last visit, but that was only to be expected so early in the year. Already heavy poms of clover were starting to bloom amid brilliantly red tulips and vibrant yellow daffodils, the flowers bobbing lazily in the slow breeze as heavy bumblebees started their yearly work of gathering the nectar that would become honey.

After the battle Bilbo had been so distracted tending to wounded Durins, between bouts of the Elven healers forcing him into bed as well to rest his own relatively minor wounds, that he had only vague, hazy memories of Beorn off the battlefield. What he could recall with vivid clarity was a moment he had looked out through the carnage surrounding himself, orcs and goblins vying against Dwarves, Elves and Men on all sides, and had seen a great bear rising up some several yards away from where he stood. 

In that moment Beorn had been as terrifying as he could have ever been, but what had left Bilbo chewing his lips with concern as they neared the cottage with no sign yet of the skinchanger, had been the way orchish spears and goblin arrows had stuck from all sides of the bear like quills of some great obscene porcupine.

As they approached the silent doorway he glanced up at Gandalf. The wizard seemed largely unconcerned so far, and he reasoned to himself that surely if Beorn had come to any significant injury he would have said something, or at least not seemed to completely unruffled. It was little comfort until the door swung open before any of them could reach for the heavy knocker, and there stood a truly mountainous man. Relief sagged his shoulders as Gandalf stepped forward to extend their greetings.

Beorn for his part ignored the wizard, looking over their small company with sharp eyes. 

“I had not realized that little scuffle claimed so many of your companions” He rumbled, lowering himself to one knee so Bilbo didn’t have to crane his neck quite so far. It took the Hobbit a moment to grasp his meaning and quickly he shook his head.

“No, no… Well, yes there were many lives lost in the battle but no, my friends are all well and whole. Most simply stayed behind in the mountain of course! After they traveled so long and so far to reclaim it, there is little desire for any of them to set about traveling again. Balin, Kili and the rest here simply agreed to accompany my own travels back to the Shire to set my affairs there in order, before they continue on to meet their own families in the west who will be coming home to Erebor late this year.” He explained hastily, waving at the small group behind him as he spoke.

Nodding, Beorn straightened up. “And the children of the forest? What brings you so far from your trees?” 

If either of the elves were surprised at being addressed it did not show in their faces. “We too are traveling east, although not so far as the Shire, and decided to keep the company of Mister Baggins and Gandalf along the way.” Tauriel said simply.

Apparently satisfied the bear man stepped back, motioning them through the open doorway and into his home. “I have found your company not wholly unpleasant in the past, I’m sure for a few days it should be so again.”

Bilbo smiled at the dogs, ponies and other animals that had been crowded near the door behind Beorn, waiting to welcome them as they entered. As odd as the animals had been to him the first time they had rested here, he had enjoyed their company and was glad to see that none seemed to have come to harm. He had worried that during their approach to Erebor the orcs may have passed near enough to this place to find the quiet refuge. 

“Oh I doubt it should be so long as that, we are hoping to reach the west before summer had properly settled in you see.” Gandalf informed their host who merely frowned shaking his shaggy head as he followed his guests deeper into the house. ”Rain is coming soon tonight, and will stay until late tomorrow or longer. You should at least wait until it has passed before continuing on your way.”

 

Later that night, belly full of crisp honey cakes and fresh bread with milk, Bilbo lay awake listening to the steady soft patter of the rain against the heavily thatched roof. Beorn’s prediction had proven itself true shortly before sunset as the heavy clouds had begun to spill over with a spring rain that quickly soaked the surrounding landscape and any unfortunate enough to be caught in it.

Even Gloin’s hearty snores could not mask the pounding of water against the roof and walls of the cottage, and Bilbo was deeply thankful they had reached the skinchangers home when they had. It meant that tonight at least he could enjoy the heady luxury of laying comfortable and warm, nestled in thick sweet smelling hay and tucked firmly between the warm bulk of his traveling companions, and listen to weather that he was not an unfortunate subject of.

None of them had any illusions of reaching their destinations without the benefit of a bit of rough weather, but for tonight at least they had been spared.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sighing with weariness, Thorin rubbed his face with stiff fingers. All of his joints ached, and straightening in his chair resulted in a series of deep crackles and pops that chased each other down his spine. Dwalin, leaning over the heavy stone table nearby, glanced over from the piles of reports and restoration maps that covered the polished surface entirely.

“Sounds like you’re getting old” He muttered without much humor.

“Feels like I’m getting old.” Was his sighed reply. “Why does it seem like all of our progress simply ends in more work to be done?” 

Shaking his head, Dwalin sat heavily on one of the benches around the table. “Because it does. Everything we fix or clear away just shows us something else we’ve got to fix or clear away. But we ARE making progress. I have been assured repeatedly that we will have enough fixed to light the third south forge.”

Thorin nodded as he glanced at the papers piled in front of where he sat. Careful mapping of the pipe networks and a detailed review of those maps that had been found in the library having survived the long years of neglect had informed the decision of which of the forges to light. The chosen forge was not especially large, nor did it have any special meaning or use, and it did not service any part of the palace or royal quarters. But it was deep, creating a large belly of heat without excessive waste of fuel, and would heat pipes servicing a small but diverse area of the city.

The forge would likely not be enough on its own to properly warm the air in the area, but would provide hot water, warm dens, and useable baths for many. It would provide useable heat in several shop areas and a small market, as well as a healers hall. While Thorin was determined that Nori would bear in a properly prepared birthing den, he hoped the estimates were correct that the forge would be able to service the entire area chosen, a section of the city large enough to house nearly two hundred comfortably.

In all likelihood there would be at least that many if not more arriving during the summer and autumn in multiple caravans, including the one which would bring his sister betrothed home, but it would be a start. Things would likely be crowded, but they would manage. They would be home.

Even Dale was beginning to look less like a pile of rubble, and more like a useable settlement at the far end of the valley. Stones that had been knocked from their settings were replaced if they could be, or if they could not they were ground with sand and ceramic dust into a concrete to seal in place the stones that could be. Similar to the efforts in Erebor, Dale had also been mapped and an area of the city that held a mix of housing, shops and trade structures chosen for concerted efforts of rebuilding. 

It was a tactic that left the city looking lopsided as buildings were repaired to great detail while neighboring houses remained untouched, but it meant that the areas of concentrated effort would be habitable when winter descended, hopefully allowing those among the men who were willing to, to remain in their own city during the colder months and continue repairs.

He looked over the piles of reports and paperwork that completely hid the polished granite table from view. They were making progress. Slow, tedious and difficult, but it was progress. He glanced across the table at his oldest and dearest friend. Dwalin was staring at a paper that he clearly did see, his gaze distant with a small crooked smile twisting his features. Thorin hid his own small smile.

Nori’s pregnancy was just beginning to show, and a set of the thin jeweled chains of a gravid bearer had been found in the treasury by Dori who had insisted Nori wear them. At first his embarrassment had been apparent, but more and more these days he wore the jewels with pride. He had been a slave, an orphan, and a thief. Now he was finding himself a symbol of the new life growing within the Lonely Mountain.

With a wry grin Thorin balled up a report that didn’t look overly important and threw it at his friend, hitting him square in the ear and garnering a startled squawk. “Oh get out of here. It’s been hours, we’ve done the best we can for the day. Get off to that thief of yours, he’s stealing your thoughts anyways.”

Dwalin threw the ball of paper back with a laugh, pushing away from the table with a groan. “I had better visit the kitchens first. Seems he’s hungry all the time now, if I don’t bring food he’s likely to eat me instead.” He admitted, making his way to the door. He paused in opening it, glancing back over his shoulder at his king, already focused on another report. “Thorin?”

The dark haired dwarf glanced up with a questioning sound.

“That den of yours is nearly empty with Bilbo, Kili and my brother gone, and Fili stays with us as much as he can. Why don’t you come and den down with us tonight as well. Get some proper sleep.”

To his credit Thorin swallowed back his automatic reply that he was fine. He knew he wasn’t, dwarves just weren’t meant to be alone and the nights that Fili slept with Ori and his brothers in their den he scarcely managed any sleep of his own. It was starting to show on his face, and in his slowed and sometimes muddled thoughts. 

Slowly he nodded. “Aye, until the caravan from Ered Luin brings my sister’s family, and master Baggins, home, I think that may be a good idea.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. ”Of course it’s a god idea. I’m due at least one per week. Just don’t be crawling in too late, you wake Nori up and if you do I’ll let him hit you.”

Thorin chuckled at the threat as the heavy door closed behind his friend. Erebor had always been their home, but with every day that passed it was actually starting to feel once more like an actual _home_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The rain lasted for most of three full days, during which they largely rested, told stories, and discussed what the road ahead may bring. Beorn was often absent during this time, out in his barn or off elsewhere, the hulking bear unbothered by the persistent wet. When it was time to pack and set out once more on the road he presented them with rough, heavy cloaks that had been soaked in wax and oil. The cloaks were all a bit stiff, but they smelled pleasantly of beehives and would keep out future rain far better than anything else any of them possessed.

Even Gandalf, Tauriel and Legolas were given a cloak each, although the elves accepted theirs with far less visible enthusiasm than the wizard had. 

It was sad to leave the warm comfort of that cozy cottage behind once more, but they had little choice. Turning their sights south toward the Old Road and the High Pass, they set off with promises to pass that way again during their return.

 

Near the foothills of the Misty Mountains they found a small village of men, where they were able to purchase fresh supplies and gear for crossing the great mountains. The dwarves grumbled that they could not procure ponies enough to mount their entire number, and the elves seemed disappointed at the lack of mounts as well, but privately Bilbo was rather quite relieved. The weather had improved enough that he no longer spent his days longing for extra body heat, and some days he still imagined he could feel the aches and pains that had come from his sudden and rather merciless introduction to long distance riding. If Gandalf had an opinion in either way about crossing the mountains on foot, he restricted it to a general concern for their wellbeing.

Not that any of the group who had crossed the mountains on the journey to Erebor needed any reminding of the troubles they had faced. Mercifully they were able to cross the mountains with very little trouble aside from the expected difficulty of the steep peaks, stubborn snow and icy winds. The small column of travelers quickly because a small cluster whenever the road allowed it, the dwarves all moving as close together as safety allowed and keeping Bilbo to the center of their small group.

Any protest he may have raised at the treatment was quickly blown away by a freezing cold wind so he put his head down and let himself be shuffled a bit closer to the taller and heavier dwarves, and decided to just appreciate what little protection they provided. 

The elves, annoyingly enough, seemed entirely unaffected by the weather in the mountains. Their feet did not sink deeply into the snow as did those of the dwarves, and the chill of the icy wind did not seem to seep into their bones as it did that of the dwarves and the hobbit. Gandalf similarly seemed nearly unaffected by discomfort or cold, and these facts as much as any other left the dwarves and Bilbo grumbling crossly as they trudged along the high pass.

They managed to make good time over the mountains despite the difficulty of the crossing, and sooner than Bilbo would have expected he realized they were heading steadily downwards back towards the warmer valleys and woods, and the East-West road, below. And before the road, the valley of Imladris, and Rivendell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

With a sigh Nori hefted himself out of the deep den he normally shared with his brothers, Dwalin and recently Thorin. Balin had been gone for several weeks to accompany Bilbo to the Shire. Dwalin and Dori had traveled northeast around the mountain and up the river running with men of Dale and soldiers from the Iron Hills to seek out game and lumber, and Thorin so often buried himself in his work he rarely slept, crawling into the den exhausted in the deep of night and often gone before or soon after Nori and Ori awoke. That meant that right now with Ori off doing what he could to help, the chambers they had claimed were empty.

He wandered out slowly into the main room, barefoot and bare save for a light sleeping tunic. There was a mirror of highly polished bronze there that Dwalin had found the week before and settled against one wall. He hadn’t given it much thought before but now he drifted closer, eying his reflection.

Fresh from his nap, his hair was loose from the usual peaks and instead pulled back in a long heavy braid, his beard also free of its usual adornment. Thoughtfully he ran his hands down the front of his shirt, pulling it close to his body and twisting first one way, then the other. At his midsection there was just the faint hints of a roundness, a soft swelling that had not been there weeks before.

Running his hands over the swell he stared at himself, wondering who this dwarf in the mirror was, this peaceful stranger. He looked content in his life, almost happy even. Nori wasn’t sure if he knew how to be that dwarf he saw in the mirror.

Lost in thought he didn’t hear the heavy door slide open and then closed, and continued to gaze at his reflection until Ori appeared behind his shoulder, stepping up to hug him from behind. “You look scared, is everything okay?” Hs brother softly asked.

He made a small sound of protest and Ori grinned. “Alright, not scared but… uncertain maybe?”

He sighed. “It’s just odd. I don’t think I ever imagined I would be here. That Thorin’s mad idea would actually _work_. That Dwalin and I…”

Ori nodded and slid his arms lower to rest his hands beside his brothers over the barely visible shape that heralded his new niece or nephew. “I think I know what you mean. It’s pretty incredible to actually be here. I never thought I would ever see this place.”

His voice trailed softly off and for a while the two of them simply stood together in the empty room.

After several moments Ori’s fingers trailed over his brother’s shoulder to loosely pet his thick beard. “Are you going to leave it out more often now?” he asked softly and received a small shrug in response.

“I like it loose” He admitted softly. “Reminds me of when I was little.”

With a small smile he tugged his brother around in front of him, tucking Ori’s head under his chin. “Oh? You want me to cuddle you up under my beard like a little baby again?” He teased, a light playfulness chasing the melancholy away.

Ori giggled and squirmed free, punching him softly in the shoulder. “Smile more brother, I don’t want my little nifling to come out too serious. Everyone will think it’s Dori’s little one if that happens.”

Nori rolled his eyes and started pulling back his hair into a simple braid to keep it out of the way while he worked during the day. “Oh they’re going to think that anyways when he steals it every day. I swear, for one who claims no interest in bonding or bearing his own, he is absolutely obsessed with my being gravid.”

“He’s excited.” Ori softly kissed his brother’s temple as he helped him brain back his hair and finish it with a silver jeweled clasp that Dwalin had found in the treasury for him. “We all are. Can you blame us?”

“I can and I absolutely will.” He replied with mock serious, pulling away with a laugh as clever fingers found the ticklish spot along his ribs. “Ah! Hey have mercy! I’m in a delicate condition!”

Ori gave him one last sharp poke. “Oh yes, so very delicate. Are you helping me in the library today? We’re already learning a lot from the old records for the agriculture quarters, I never would have realized just how much food could be produced inside a mountain!” He pulled open the clothing trunk as he talked, helping his brother dress for the day.

“I mean, I’ve seen the mushroom caves and the fishery, but they used to have orchards and grain fields and rice paddies and all sorts of things! The fishery had big river trout _and_ eels and shellfish and the records talk about a sea grass that could be woven into baskets, and thick tubers from the shallows that could be eaten and things I can hardly imagine!”

Nori laced his tunic up, smiling as he listened to Ori go on about everything they were finding in the old records. He had heard the stories, they all had, about how the great fortress of Erebor could withstand any great siege, how in the distant past when orcs and goblins had come up from the south the men of Dale would all shelter within her great halls and all would be warm and fed and comfortable for moons, seasons… years even if it was needed. The river bringing fresh water, the mountain giving vast amounts of coal from her depths, and the well concealed mountain farms giving the fresh food they all needed.

It had taken a great dragon from a forgotten age to bring her to her knees. But she was theirs again and would stand firm into the coming ages, Erebor would be a word that meant strength, endurance and wealth once more.

Following his brother out of their chambers to start the day’s work he ran his hand lovingly over smooth stone. They had reclaimed the mountain and would raise her again to glory, and she in return would shelter them all, them and their children. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rivendell was much as he recalled.

It held a timeless, unchanging quality as if the world beyond its borders rushed past like the waters of a river, splitting around heavy rocks, splashing up at their edges but never quite touching them, not really moving or changing them in a definable, seeable manner.

They entered the Last Homely House this time as welcomed and expected guests, and were warmly met by Lord Elrond who greeted Bilbo first, much to his embarrassment. Only after he had greeted the Hobbit and his dwarven escort did the Elf Lord turn his attention to Legolas and Tauriel, bidding all of his guests welcome into his home and indicating to his seneschal Lindir to show them to their rooms.

Unlike their last, rather sudden visit this time they were shown to rooms that adjoined closely, and bore low slung furniture that while not entirely intended for the use of Dwarves or Hobbits, was for more reachable than what had first served as beds. Lindir also rather pointedly indicated them in the direction of a fully equipped bathing room that had Bilbo flushing in embarrassment even as he stifled a small laugh at the memory of finding the dwarves all ‘bathing’ in the fountains.

He could not fault the elves for taking any available precaution against a repeat performance, especially as he was himself deeply in need of a bath and slipped off to make use of the facility at the first moment possible, making his escape with his small toiletries bag while Balin and Gloin were distracted by the combination of Kili being rather disagreeable in his desire to disappear wherever Tauriel had gone, and their Iron Hills escort being rather disagreeable about being in an elven home.

The water was beautifully warm and after a thorough scrub, rinse and repeat to get the layers of road dust off his body and out of his hair he lowered himself into the shallower end of the pool, biting back a groan of pleasure. He had managed to bathe in Mirkwood, and again at Beorn’s, but the road since had been long and harsh and he had been forced to make do with cold streams, rendering the fragrant, steaming pool a heavenly gift.

Closing his eyes in bliss he leaned back against the smooth tiled edge and had nearly drifted off to sleep when his entire dwarven escort thundered into the bathing room at once.

“BILBO!!”

He jerked upright then dropped himself low in the water, using it as cover. Yes they had been traveling together for some weeks, and yes he was starting to grow accustomed to the idea that dwarves just had a different sense of modesty than Hobbits did but still!

Balin exchanged a look with Gloin who turned and started to shoo the others out of the room while the older dwarf came over to the edge of the bath, a disapproving frown leaving deep lines on his face. “And just what was that eh? Sneaking off like that and giving us all a fright!”

He relaxed a bit when it was just Balin in the room, and rolled his eyes at the tone. “And what’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like I ran off into the woods or anything, I just came to have a bath, in the bathing room that is connected to our guest rooms, it’s about twenty paces away from where you were all sorting our baggage, hardly an epic disappearance.” 

“You know what I mean! You know better than to hare off when we’re-“

“When we’re where? Under the roof one who has greeted us a friend? Fed, sheltered and aided us in the past, and invited us to his table as honored guests this very night? What danger am I in Balin? Here in the house of Lord Elrond?”

Balin muttered under his breath but then threw u his hands in defeat. “Alright laddie, yes alright it was a bit of an over-reaction”

“Just a bit…” the Hobbit muttered, sinking to his chin in the soothing, warm water.

“But even so” he went on as if Bilbo had said nothing. “Regardless of if our host is friend or foe, please do not disappear from sight so quickly in the future. It gave us all quite the fright to find you so suddenly gone.”

He raised himself back up to sit on the shallow ledge, leaning once more against the tiled wall. “And what of when we reach Hobbiton Balin? What then? You will all be going on to the mountains to rendezvous with the caravan and I will be staying behind to organize things there, surely I will be rather far from your sight then?” 

Balin lowered himself to sit on the smooth stone floor with a small groan. “Yes, that will be some complication, although we will not be simply dropping you by the road and moving on. You said you left your home with no instructions for the care or keeping of your house. We will remain with you until it is clear that you are settled and your business properly accounted for. As for the wizard? I cannot speak for him. Who knows if he shall stay or move on or if he shall even accompany us to your home.” He shrugged. “Melekun’s mind is ever unknowable to simple folk like us.” He gave Bilbo a teasing look and was rewarded with a small laugh and a splash in his direction.

“I am glad you came with us on this venture Balin. You and Gloin both. Kili is fine and well but… it has been good to have such steady and reliable companions.”

The elder dwarf preened at the praise and stood, brushing imaginary dust off his knees. “Well you best finish your primping soon M’lord soon-to-be-consort.” His tone was teasing. “We are expected to sup with our most genial host soon.” He winced. “If one can call leaves and berries ‘supper’.”

Bilbo’s light laughter followed him out of the bathing room.

 

Supper, much to the astonishment of the Dwarves and the relief of one Hobbit, did not consist entirely of ‘leaves and berries’ as Balin had put it. Rather, a young buck had dressed and prepared in several dishes, although there were still many more salads and other offering that did not contain meat than one would ever expect to find on a Dwarven table. It seemed to satisfy the appetites of the Dwarves whom were able to thankfully restrain themselves from throwing anything, singing loudly, or walking on any tables.

In many ways Bilbo considered the night a success. Although…

“Really my lord, regardless of what may or may not come to pass in the future, I do not at this time hold any great position and do not deserve any special recognition! Certainly not such a rich and luxurious gift!” Bilbo protested as politely as he could manage but Elrond was having nothing of it.

“So you may say Master Baggins, but I have heard otherwise, and from many varied sources as well. Regardless, it is not such an expensive gift as you seem to believe. The wagon is small, and yes it can carry a man but it is of a far more acceptable size for a Dwarf, or a Hobbit such as yourself. And while the ponies are quite fine animals they are not of a size to be very useful for my people. No, it is far better for them to go with you, and then when you make your return to Erebor you will have simply that much more space for carrying whatever is needed for your life in the East.”

With a huffed breath he finally gave in and accepted that he was now the owner of a small four wheeled carriage and two very nice ponies to pull it.

It was only after they had set off west for The Shire the next morning that it occurred to him to wonder why such a small cart and ponies were in Rivendell at all, given that they were as stated, quite unsuitable for use by elves.

He rather suspected he was being laughed at.

 

********************************

Notes : Yes I know according to the lore the Running River starts at the lonely mountain and heads south. :p for my purposes in this fic either it, or another river, runs south into and under the Lonely Mountain, then continues on as the running river. Any complaints regarding can on accuracy will be reminded that this entire fic is based on the premise that Thorin, Fili and Kili did NOT die in the BOTFA therefore canon need not apply :D

Nifling – I decided I needed a gender neutral word for niece/nephew, especially given that there’s only words for two genders and my dwarves have basically 3. Even if they do generally use the masculine words out of habit from dealing with humans.

Gravid – I learned a while ago that in apparently in most Scandinavian countries the words used for carrying a child is gravid rather than pregnant. I like it, so the dwarves use that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, The entire reason that Bilbo got a pony cart is this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f8-9jFZtLmk 100%. Watched that and decided that Bilbo _was_ going to have a small cart pulled by a pair of palomino ponies.


	3. AUTHORS NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an actual chapter, I'm sorry to say

I've wrestled with this decision for several days now

First, no I'm not abandoning this or any other fic, but I am officially putting my writing 'on hiatus' until further notice.

Life has.... Kind of exploded for me the last couple months. There are personal health issues, family health issues, work issues etc... It's not been pretty.

I'm also kind of writing in a vacuum, I have no close friends that are into The Hobbit the way I am and no close friends that write either and therefore no one to discuss my writing with. (Most of my works were posted while working on a job with a friend that writes in another fandom)

So basically, right now I am incredibly stressed and have almost no time at all to write. When I do have time I have very little energy or inspiration to write.

I have contacted the wonderful Lapin about the backstory I had mapped out for Dwalin and Nori so there is that to look forward to at least.

With any luck I will have some time and inspiration following my surgery when I won't be out and about very much. I really want to have this story finished and posted before the year is over.

Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this, and if you were hoping for chapter 3 I am dreadfully sorry for disappointing you.

**Author's Note:**

> So I will be honest, I originally was not going to post any of this until I had at least half of the chapters finished. But it's just taking so long (chapter 2 is really fighting me) that I decided to go ahead with what I have. 
> 
> I'm not going to make any promises about when the next chapter of this will be available, but I will do my best to have it out eventually!


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